


Folie à Deux - An Insane Will AU

by SuperWhoLockWarrior



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail Hobbs Lives, Adopted Abigail Hobbs, Domestic Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Hallucinations, Insane Will Graham, It's a mess I know, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, Serial Killer Will Graham, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepwalking Will Graham, Slow Burn, Will Graham Has Encephalitis, Will Graham Hates Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham is Delusional, Will Graham is a Cannibal, Will Graham is a Mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28600221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLockWarrior/pseuds/SuperWhoLockWarrior
Summary: (An offshoot of Season 1)Will is crazy, he's sure of it. He's hallucinating horrible, awful things happening at all hours of the day, he had begun sleepwalking, he's no longer sure when he's sleeping or awake. He's going to snap at any moment, he knows. And his therapist certainly isn't helping.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	Folie à Deux - An Insane Will AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will begins sleepwalking, leaving him shaken. He decides to continue working despite this, trying to catch a serial killer that drowns and crucifies their victims. However, it seems this is only the beginning of his descent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance. I haven't watched the full series, this is why it's an offshoot of season 1. Specifically episode 4.

Will wandered down the dark, foggy street. His head was spinning, the forest surrounding the road was impossible to differentiate from any other. He could hear the distinct _clip clop_ of the stag behind him. That god forsaken stag seemed to follow him everywhere. He walked faster, desperate to get away from it, almost running now. It kept the same pace it had this entire time, but it didn't seem to be getting farther away. He was sure he could hear whispering. He recognized the voice. Garret Jacob Hobbs, the first man he had ever killed, who he couldn't help feeling attached to, as though he had been poisoned by the serial killer. His voice was repeating one word over and over. _See?_ Will ran faster in a craze. He had to escape the voice, and fast. He knew it was a dream, but he couldn't wake himself up. But he hoped to soon feel the comfort of his soft sheets.

Suddenly, he was faced with two bright lights. Had the stag's eyes begun glowing? However, when he blinked, he saw it was a car. He was nearly hit, but the car swerved and came to a screeching halt. He could barely process this. Usually, cars didn't appear in his dreams. He blinked rapidly, trying to make the vision leave, but it stayed. A man stepped out of the car looking shaken. He turned to Will, and his expression turned sour.

"What the hell are you doing out here, sir?" He demanded. It took a few moments for Will to realize this man was a sheriff.

"I... I don't know." Will frowned. He looked around, realizing the stag was gone. It finally occurred to him that he was definitely not dreaming anymore. But how had he ended up here then?

"Are you on drugs?" The sheriff asked bluntly. "Been drinking?"

"No sir, only a bit of whiskey before I went to bed." Will was shaking. Had he been shaking this whole time? Probably, it seemed he couldn't stop shaking anymore.

The sheriff frowned deeply as a dog came up and licked Will's hand. Will looked down at the dog and smiled ever so slightly. "Hey Winston..." Had he followed Will this whole time? How long had he been walking? How long had poor Winston been following him down the road?

"I'm going to bring you to the station. Name?" The sheriff brought Will's attention back.

"Will Graham..." Will took a deep breath, stooping next to Winston and buried in the dog's fluff. He felt he could stay there forever, feeling safe from all outside harm. The sheriff, however, had Will get in the car. He also let Winston in, given the dog probably wouldn't just walk home. And then, they were off to the station.

* * *

"You were sleepwalking."

It sounded more like a statement than a question. Will looked back up at Dr. Hannibal Lector and nodded. "Yes, I believe so."

The therapist nodded. He stared at Will as if picking apart everything about him. He hated when his therapist did this. It made him feel... vulnerable. Like he knew all his deepest secrets. He half expected Dr. Lector to begin explaining everything that made him absolutely crazy and that he'd have him taken to an asylum or something. He dreaded that thought. He didn't want to be locked up the rest of his life like a padded-walled prison. He saw Dr. Lector's expression change, and he worried he had shown distaste at his thoughts and that the therapist might have thought it was directed at him. Just as he was imagining what his life would be like in an asylum, his therapist finally spoke.

"Stress can cause you to sleepwalk. I'd suggest you take a few days off, Will. You need to give your mind a break, or it might break you." He gave a slight smirk, obviously entertained by his wordplay. Will, on the other hand, was not entertained at all.

"I'm not sure Jack would _let_ me take a break. He practically needs me to solve his mysteries for him." He tried not to sound too bitter, but he had to admit, it was weighing on him. He wasn't sure he appreciated how Jack always treated him. Especially not after Hannibal told him Jack saw him as fine china. Honestly, he was beginning to feel more like an old mug. He couldn't help but feel angry at... at Jack? At Hannibal? Who was he mad at? The world. He was angry at the world for making _him_ the guy with the special empathy 'powers'.

"You shouldn't worry about what you think Jack wants. Ask him for a break for your own mental health. I'm sure it will get you somewhere. But your mental state will only get worse if you continue like this." Dr. Lector said matter-of-factly. He gave Will a surprisingly empathetic look, one he didn't usually give. Will was starting to understand how bad this truly could end up. He took a deep breath and nodded.

"Alright, I'll ask him."

With that, he turned and walked out the door.

The moment Will got to the headquarters, Alana told him Jack wanted to see him. Of course. Jack always seemed to want to see him. There was always a case and of course, he was always the one supposed to help. He was the serial killer catcher. He made his way to Jack's office. He sat down across the desk from agent Jack Crawford, lifelong friend and pain in the ass. Jack looked up at him, seeming displeased.

"Will, I was wondering when you'd get here. I called you thirty minutes ago." Jack deadpanned.

Immediately, Will pulled out his phone. Shit. He had somehow managed to grab Hannibal's phone instead of his own. He cursed himself internally and pocketed it again. "I'm sorry, Jack. I guess I missed it. It won't happen again." He was going to have to return the phone later, but he couldn't think about that right now. "Why did you call me? Did something happen?" He hoped for once Jack would say 'Oh no I just wanted to say you've been doing a good job and you can take the week off!'

"What do you think?" Will's silence encouraged him to continue. "A girl drowned at the public pool."

"Wow, a person drowning. That will be the talk of the town, won't it? This just in: girl drowned at public pool!" Will knew there had to be more, but he was annoyed. He wasn't even sure why he was so annoyed. He just wanted to be at home, spending time with his dogs, or visiting Abigail Hobbs at the mental hospital. _Where I belong, huh?_ He caught himself thinking.

"I need you to take this seriously, Will." Jack grumbled.

"Why do you suspect it's murder? People drown all the time!"

"The killer made a show of it. Gave themselves a name, too. Calls themselves 'The Siren'." He rolled his eyes. "I expect you'll come with me to the crime scene?"

"About that-" He paused. Jack needed him. He couldn't take a break now, and he had to be honest with himself. He only felt in his element while on the scene. He would never admit it, but it's about all he could do with his ability, and the only time he could justify how much he thought about killing. One more time couldn't hurt, could it? "About that... Could we get coffee first? I didn't sleep well."

Jack rolled his eyes and nodded, standing; Will stood as well, and soon, they were off.

The car arrived at the crime scene and Will quickly got out. He sipped his coffee (which had seven shots of espresso in it) as he walked up to where the body had been found. The drowned girl, around 16 years of age, had been nailed to a wall made to look like rocks with water pouring down them like a waterfall. A water wall, he recalled them being named. Water parted around her body, blood mixing in from where the nails stabbed through her wrists. In her stomach, 'The Siren' was carved. He stared up at her body, noticing how sloppy everything was. This wasn't someone experienced, this was someone that was proud of their murder and wanted everyone to _know_ it was murder and not an accidental drowning. He finished his coffee and threw away the cup, approaching the body. He was ready to do his magic. He closed his eyes and slipped into the killer's mindset.

_I invited her to the pool, specifically on a Wednesday. A weekday meant much less people. The few people that were there would leave soon for lunch. She believed it to be a fun day out, I knew otherwise. We swam for a few hours. Eventually, the rest of the people cleared out to eat lunch. This was my chance. I tackled her and dragged her under the water, knocking her out of breath. She kicked and fought, but my hold was much stronger. I watched the spark of life leave her eyes, so I resurfaced, keeping her under the water for just a bit longer. Just to be sure. I needed her dead. Finally, before the people could return, I dragged her to the water wall and began painstakingly driving nails through her skin into the water wall. Then, I needed a name for myself. I needed to be known. I managed to carve my new name into her skin. I escaped unseen; I had others I needed to take care of now._

Will opened his eyes. He was shaking violently. He always hated that part. When he reconstructed what happened, he was always in the killer's place. He watched himself kill. He always got the answers, but he couldn't stop the shaking it always induced. He was starting to regret not asking for a break. He looked around and waved Jack over.

"This was an act of humiliation toward someone the killer hated. Most likely bullied in school. This girl was one of their bullies." He explained, still shaking. He searched his pockets for some aspirin before remembering he hadn't bought a new bottle yet. He groaned quietly and looked back at Jack.

"So we're looking for an unpopular kid that would hate their bullies." Will nodded. "Well, that makes things _so much_ easier, doesn't it? Ugh, just go home. We'll search around. I'll call you if I get any updates."

Will nodded and began walking back home. He tried to ignore Hobbs's voice whispering to him as he kept walking. He wondered if one of these days he'd snap and actually kill someone. He tried to tell himself that would never happen, but he couldn't convince himself anymore. He arrived at his house and walked in before realizing he had forgotten to visit Dr. Lector and give him his phone back. However, that thought was interrupted when he realized he smelled food cooking. His eyes widened and he walked into the kitchen to find the doctor himself inside, cooking for Will, the latter's phone on the dining table. He felt strangely relieved despite the fact that Dr. Lector had basically broken in. That saved him a trip, didn't it?

"I hope you don't mind me letting myself in. I realized the phone mix-up and came to fix it, but you weren't here, so I decided that not only would I return your phone, but I'd also cook you breakfast. I doubt you've had any yet." Hannibal turned to look at Will, a slight smirk on his face. However, that smirk fell. "You didn't ask for a break, did you?"

Will gave Hannibal back his phone and sighed. "I didn't... yet. I will next time, I promise. But, it's just one more job, it shouldn't be too bad."

"You're shaking badly. You look as though you're seizing." He plated the food, a breakfast scramble like what they'd eaten when they'd first met. Will found it oddly endearing and took a plate, sitting down. "Oh, and before I forget. I got you more aspirin." He produced a bottle of aspirin from his pocket and gave it to him.

"You're spoiling me, Dr. Lector." Will chuckled humorlessly and took some of the aspirin. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to seduce me."

"You don't have to call me Dr. Lector right now, this is a casual setting. And don't fret, I am not trying to seduce you." Hannibal sat down with his own plate of food and began eating. Will hadn't touched his food yet. He didn't exactly have much of an appetite. However, he didn't want to be rude, so he finally started quietly eating.

"Do you usually go to patients' houses and cook for them?"

"No, of course not. You're a special case, Will Graham." He chuckled lightly.

_Of course I'm a special case. I'm always a special case._ Will thought bitterly. He knew that's not what he meant, but he couldn't help but feel angry about the singling out. He felt like he couldn't be relaxed around Hannibal. For some reason, he always got a sense of danger from the unassuming man. Why was that? He was a therapist, he should feel at ease. He wished he could understand the doctor better. He looked up at Hannibal, and he saw that... that _stag_ just standing behind him. It made him jump and fall backwards in his chair. He hit his head against the floor and cried out.

"Will! Are you okay?" Hannibal helped him back up, frowning deeply.

"The hell I am! That stag is after me, Dr.! It's here to hurt me!" He knew it couldn't really hurt him, but he was too panicked to care.

"Calm down, Will. There is no stag. You are safe here. I will make sure of it." Will was pretty sure he saw antlers sprouting from Hannibal's head, but when he blinked, they were gone. He took a deep breath and sat back down in his chair. "Now, explain to me more about this stag?"

"It's been following me around ever since I killed Hobbs. I first saw it when I fell asleep in Abigail's hospital room. It's a stag with a raven's plumage. It... it feels like it's going to hurt me. It chases me or lingers nearby, and it feels like... like it's going to impale me with its rack." He looked down, realizing how stupid he must've sounded. Terrified of a simple stag that wasn't even real.

"This stag... It must be a visualization of your guilt, or your anger, or your fear itself. Maybe all three." Hannibal said slowly.

Will stayed silent. He managed to finish his food and stood. "Well, I'm going to go. I want to visit Abigail before visiting hours are over. I assume you'll be going home?"

"Actually, I was already planning on visiting her myself. Is it okay if I come with you?"

Will wasn't sure if he actually was okay with that, but he nodded anyway. "Alright then, come with me."

"I'll drive. You're still a bit shaken up."

Halfway to the psychiatric ward, it occurred to Will that Hannibal might have been lying about visiting Abigail. He began wondering if the therapist was only accompanying him because of his compromised mental state. Was he mad about Hannibal treating him like a child or grateful he cared enough about keeping Will alive? More so than even Will himself cared? He decided it was a mixture of both.

They arrived at the ward and walked inside. Will felt awkward spending so much personal time with his therapist, he felt weirdly compelled to become closer to him. But that could get complicated. He felt awfully conflicted; everything about Hannibal confused him. He had a sense of danger, but he also had a comforting aura. He made Will feel enraged all the time, and yet he also encouraged Will's softer side. He just couldn't get a general feeling of what Hannibal is like. So why did he have any desire to be... friends with him? Not to mention the issue of him being the therapist's patient. He was shaken from his thoughts when they arrived at Abigail's room.

Abigail looked up at them, smiling slightly at Hannibal. "Hello, Dr. Lector. Hello, Will." She sat up, stretching.

"Hello, Abigail. How have you been?" Will asked, smiling.

She shrugged. "I've still been having nightmares about all those girls..." She looked down, frowning deeply. Every time Will visited she seemed to be distressed.

"I understand... My nightmares have been awful recently." He sat on the end of her bed, and she repositioned so she could sit next to him. "And that goddamn stag..." Shit. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Stag?" Abigail looked troubled, no doubt thinking of the hunting she did with her dad. Will regretted mentioning it at all.

"Yeah, a stag..." He looked away. "It's been following me since... since I killed Hobbs." He looked down. "It's horrifying. I have this stupid irrational fear that it's going to impale me and leave me like that girl in the field. It's always there when I'm dreaming. And... sometimes when I'm awake. Dr. Lector thinks it's my guilt or anger-"

"-Or fear-" Hannibal added.

"-taking form in my mind." He looked at Hannibal, frowning.

Abigail nodded slowly. "Angry at my father. Or guilt about killing him. And afraid of... him?" She frowned and stared at him. _Great, she's psychoanalyzing me now too, isn't she?_ "No. You're not afraid of him. You're afraid of becoming him." She finally said, staring. "You're scared you'll lose yourself and become as sick as him."

"I feel like everyone knows that at this point." He looked down. "I don't want to be a bad person, but I... I get so... so _angry_." His fists clenched desperately. He was sure Abigail was getting scared of him. He probably looked crazy. But, she leaned into him gently, and he looked back at her. She was one of the two people he made eye contact with.

"I don't think you will become like him. I think you're stronger than that." She said slowly, as though choosing her words carefully.

"I wish I was comforted by that... but I can try to believe you." He smiled slightly at her.

"You better." She smiled, almost a rebellious smile. Then, she frowned. "I wish I could leave. This place is so stifling!"

"Well, where would you go? You sold the house. You don't have many relatives..."

"I could stay with one of you." She said nonchalantly. "It'd be way better than _here_." She gave the room a disdainful look.

"Are you sure you'd be okay with that? I can take you in if you want, of course, but- would you be uncomfortable?" Will was beginning to worry again. What if he couldn't care for a kid that well? What if he did snap and he hurt her? He'd never forgive himself if something happened to her.

"I could always take her in." Hannibal said suddenly. "You can't take much more stress, Will. You already have seven dogs to take care of. I also have a spare room, and I don't recall your house having one."

Will looked at Abigail. Ultimately, it was her choice. And she seemed to make it quickly. "I'd like to stay with Dr. Lector. I'd prefer my own room. No offense, Will."

"None taken." Will shook his head. Hannibal was right, he couldn't take care of Abigail without his stress levels rising through the roof. He wasn't sure he could take care of himself without adding stress. He wondered if he should just take a break from taking care of himself until this case was closed. That could help with his stress, couldn't it? Then again, it was more likely to worsen things. He decided that was a stupid thought and he should be focusing on himself _more_. He looked back at Abigail. "Do you need help packing?"

"No, I can handle myself." She shook her head. "Not like I have much to pack anyway."

Will felt stupid for asking. Of course she didn't need help. He stood up. "I should probably take my leave then? I expect Crawford will be needing me soon." He didn't wait for anyone to say anything, leaving quickly. He wasn't sure why he felt so uncomfortable. Was it Lector's odd aura? Or was it the fear that he might hurt Abigail? Or maybe he was jealous Abigail went with Hannibal despite his understanding of how dangerous his stress levels were? Whatever it was, he couldn't take being in that room, so he got into his car. He could drive, he was sure he could. He just had to be extra careful. Somehow, he managed to get home safely.

He spent his uneventful day hanging out with his dogs. He didn't even have the energy to fish. He decided not to have any whiskey before bed, just in case. He laid down and stared at the ceiling, before eventually, sleep overtook him.

* * *

Will stared at the peaceful rain as the drops pattered gently on the ground. He could stay here forever. He could hear the stag snuffling around him. He forced himself to ignore it. It meant him no harm. He had to stop being afraid. The rain was creating rather large puddles now at an alarming rate. He watched as it began rising to his knees. The dead girl rose from the water, staring at him. _You drowned me?_ her wretched voice whispered. He didn't respond, staring at her. He couldn't respond. She grabbed him and dragged him under the water. His eyes widened and he kicked and fought. He couldn't drown! He didn't want to die! The girl began choking him, wanting him to die faster. He tried to scream for help.

With a whooshing feeling, he was pulled out of the water. He was laying on the beach, staring up at a panicked Abigail and Hannibal. He was shaking and breathing heavily.

"Will, I need you to calm down." Hannibal leaned down next to him. "You're safe right now. It's midnight, you're at the beach, you're in Grafton, West Virginia. You were sleepwalking again."

"Grafton..?" Will struggled out. "But that's... three hours away..." He stared up at Hannibal, his mind struggling to wrap around this. He looked around, still shaking badly. "She tried to drown me... that girl tried to drown me! I was going to drown!"

"You almost drowned yourself. You kept fighting us when we were pulling you out of the water." Abigail corrected.

Will stared, eyes wide. He stood up, stumbling slightly. "I need to get home." He said quickly.

"I'll drive you back. You've been walking barefoot for three hours, I doubt you can do it for six." Hannibal walked to where his car parked, Abigail and Will following.

Will was silent as the car started moving. He stared out the window, and watched as that stag ran alongside them. He glared at it disdainfully. He wished it would just leave him alone for once. He felt like reality was melting around him and reforming over and over again. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, hoping it'd reset everything. He looked at Hannibal and Abigail, and instead he saw Garret Jacob Hobbs and Abigail's dead body. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes. _It's not real, it's not real, **it's not real.**_ He took a deep breath and chanced opening them. Everything was normal. He was just tired, that had to be it. He just needed a good night's sleep without the sleep walking. Then he'd feel much better. For that to happen, he just needed to get rid of his stress. How was he going to do that?

They arrived at... Hannibal's house? Will was confused, weren't they going to _his_ house? Hannibal seemed to notice his confusion and smiled slightly. "I decided it'd probably be best if we could... monitor you. So you don't wander off again."

"I thought Abigail wanted her own room."

"Who said you were sleeping in Abigail's room?"

Will's eyes widened. "Are you suggesting I... sleep in your room?"

"Of course. Purely for monitoring purposes." He added quickly.

"Of course." Will repeated, staring at him. "Uh... we won't be... sharing the bed, will we?"

"Only if you want." Hannibal gave a slight smile. For some reason, that smile gave him a chill. Was Hannibal... hitting on him? He wasn't sure he liked the idea of a romantic relationship with his _therapist. H_ e told himself that this was **_purely_** for monitoring purposes. Hannibal was just trying to keep an eye on him. He had to stop being so quick to judge. Besides, Dr. Lector didn't quite strike him as the dating type, no matter how charming he was.

He and Hannibal went up to the master bedroom as Abigail disappeared off to her room. Will made his decision, and he laid in the bed silently. Soon, he felt Dr. Lector climb in bed with him. They stayed as far apart as they could, and Will stared at the ceiling. He thought about everything that happened that day, and he didn't even notice when he fell asleep. 

When he woke up, Dr. Lector was practically entangled with him. He frowned down at his therapist. _What the hell is happening?_ He thought for a moment. _Okay, let's think about this. Maybe I got restless and tried to get up, and he stopped me? Maybe he's on me to stop me from leaving?_ That sounded reasonable, and it let him ignore any thoughts of attraction.

Suddenly, Hannibal stirred. He sat up and looked at Will. "Ah, good, you're awake. How did you sleep?"

"Surprisingly well." Will admitted. He hadn't had any nightmares for once.

"Do you see how much difference a comfortable bed will make?" He had that smirk again. For some reason it made Will want to punch him, but he ignored that feeling. Instead, he just nodded. "I'll make breakfast. I don't want you leaving without eating. That would be rude of me as your host!" Hannibal stood and got dressed quickly. Will was surprised he didn't sleep in a suit. The doctor walked downstairs, and Will followed.

Abigail was already up, staring at Hannibal's harpsichord. She played a few keys and smiled, thinking it sounded nice.

"I see you've taken interest in my harpsichord." Dr. Lector smiled with pride.

"I didn't touch anything!" Abigail exclaimed, jumping and looking at the pair. She looked panicked for some reason.

Hannibal chuckled lightly. "You needn't worry about playing the harpsichord. I do not mind you attempting to learn a new instrument. I'd be open to teaching you, if you'd like."

Abigail shrugged. "It could be nice. I'm not sure I'd be musically gifted though."

"It doesn't matter whether you're 'gifted' or not. You can always be taught. Now, away from that matter, I'm about to cook breakfast. Would you kindly set the table?"

She nodded and ran to the kitchen to get the plates and silverware. Hannibal went to the kitchen as well, leaving Will alone. He decided he would try his own hand at the harpsichord. Couldn't be that much different from playing a piano, could it? He put his hands to the keys and began playing a soft tune. The sound was completely different, but he found it interesting; it sounded much more like strings. He began zoning out as he played, and his imagination took over. He found himself remembering that poor drowned girl, her hateful eyes staring at him in his dreams. What was it that made him feel like _he_ killed her? Was it the vivid images he saw when he thought through the killer's mindset? His soft sonata turned into a frantic song, and he never even realized. It grew faster and more desperate, almost like a plea for help, and the sound was much darker. Finally, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He stopped playing and looked up, seeing Hannibal.

"I liked your song. Breakfast is ready."

Will nodded and stood, walking into the dining room silently. He didn't feel like talking about any of what he saw, so he just sat down and started eating. He hadn't realized how starving he was until he took the first bite. He practically scarfed down the sausage and eggs. Hannibal raised an eyebrow before eating as well. Suddenly, Will's phone rang. He answered it, and heard Jack Crawford's voice on the other end.

"Will, you need to come in, now. We found another body and identified both victims."

"Yes sir."

* * *

"And you're sure you feel comfortable doing this?" Hannibal asked. God, would he ever get off Will's back?

"Yes, Dr. Lector. I'm sure." He closed the car door behind him as he got out. He looked around the beach. Grafton, where he had wandered the night before. He wondered if that meant anything as he walked up to Jack. This time, the victim was impaled on a tree, and it seemed there was more malice towards her, as she had been choked and gutted, and the crows were pecking at her entrails. It was absolutely horrifying, and he was furious someone would do this over being bullied in school. Strangely, it seemed her intestines were gone, but he decided a bird had probably carried them off. "So, you identified both bodies?"

"Yep. Rachel Macintosh was the first body, this one was named Eliza Bennet. They were part of a friend group, we've found the third one. She's most likely the next victim." Jack explained, frowning at the dead body. "I'm about to go over to her house and explain what's happening. You wanna come?"

Will nodded. "Yeah, I'll go." He wasn't sure what he thought about the fact that he sleepwalked here. It couldn't have been connected, it was just a coincidence he ended up here! But it still left him with a bad feeling. He walked to the body and stared, frowning. "The killer isn't the one that gutted her. She was only choked and drowned. Whoever gutted her did it after the fact." That must have been what happened to the intestines. Now, the question was who did it? And why?

Jack frowned at Will. "So, someone's out here gutting people and stealing their entrails. Great." He just looked annoyed.

"The only reason I can imagine for that is... cannibalism." Will shuddered. He couldn't imagine eating human meat, not at all. It was such a horrifying idea.

"Another person to find, then. Well, come on, let's go find this girl." Jack sighed and walked over to his car, and they both got in. Will wasn't sure which he preferred: a car ride with Dr. Lector or a car ride with Jack Crawford. Either way, he felt uncomfortable and wanted to stay silent the whole time. Why did it feel like everyone he knew was just another weight on his shoulders? It didn't help he desperately wanted to protect every one of them from harm, which wasn't exactly easy given most people he knew were in the FBI or had a bad reputation. At least his therapist was just that: a therapist.

They arrived at a normal suburban two story house. Outside, two girls were playing basketball together. One had long dusty pink hair, and the other had short blonde hair. They paused their game when Jack and Will approached. "What can I do you for, officers?" The blonde one asked, frowning deeply.

"Agent Crawford, FBI. This is my colleague, Will Graham. We're part of a murder investigation and believe one of you in the next victim." Jack explained. "Which one of you is Roseanna Denver?"

The one with pink hair raised her hand. "Am... Am I in trouble?" She asked quietly.

"No, but you might be soon. Are your parents around? I believe they should know the situation." He scanned the immediate area for their parents.

Roseanna shook her head. "They're out right now, officer. They're helping a friend move, they're gonna be gone for a few days." She looked down. "I don't think I'm in danger, sir, just for the record. I can't see why anyone would want to hurt me." She didn't seem to fully grasp the situation. Will sighed.

"That's not what matters. What we need to know is anyone your friends might've bullied. Anyone that was bullied is a suspect." He explained slowly.

"There was no one." Beatrice said. "They were _so_ perfect. They never bullied anyone, they were so kind to everybody. I can't think of one person they ever bullied." She crossed her arms, frowning deeply.

Will looked at Jack. "What do we do then?"

Jack shook his head. "We station guards by the front and back doors. We need to make sure these girls are safe." He looked at the girls and sighed. "I'm not letting them get hurt. Not on my watch." He stood up, pulling out his phone to make a few calls. Will gave the girls a sad look and stands as well, leaving the room. He decided to just walk home and take care of his dogs. He had the odd feeling as he laid down that the girls were hiding something. Eventually, sleep claimed him.

_"You promised me, Beatrice! I promise I won't tell!"_

_"How can I believe that? When mom and dad get back, I know you'll tell! They'll send me away! No one would understand my reasons! They wouldn't understand how much they hurt us! I don't wanna live in a prison cell!"_

_"You don't have to! Just put the knife down and we'll forget this ever happened! The case will go cold, and they'll never find you. Please, end the killing, now. I'll take this secret to my grave. I won't tell anyone, especially not the cops or mom and dad! And we'll live as we always have, just forget about all of this!"_

_"I can't be sure that you won't tell. Not unless I make sure!"_

_"Beatrice... Please..!"_

Will sat straight up, glad he was still in bed. He'd never had a dream like that before, but he was sure it meant something. He immediately got dressed and ran to his car, driving to the girls' house. He looked at the guards in front of the door and walked up. "I need to go in." He said quickly.

"Why should we let you in?" One asked.

"Because Roseanna Denver is in grave danger right now!"

"No one's gotten in."

"Because the killer might have been inside the whole time!"

Finally, the guard (begrudgingly) let him in. Will searched the house for the girls, and he found them in their room. He got there just in time to watch Roseanna take Beatrice's knife and stab her with it in the chest. She immediately panicked and was rushing out apologies, tearing up. She went to pull out the knife but stopped. She had no idea what to do. She had stabbed her own sister, and she had no idea if it was fatal. Will rushed over to calm her down while restraining Beatrice, who was screaming at Roseanna in a rage.

* * *

"So, Beatrice Denver survived the accident?"

Will nodded, looking up at Dr. Lector. "They stabilized her. Alana is with Roseanna right now, trying to comfort her. But I just don't understand that dream! How could I have dreamt about something happening a mile away as it was happening?" He raised his voice slightly. Why was everything about him so weird all the time?

"Many cultures believe in astral projection. Do you think you might've been astral projecting? _Seeing_ what was happening while asleep?"

"I... Might've been? I've never believed in stuff like that... But it would explain a lot." He wasn't sure what to think about any of this. What was he supposed to think? Astral projection sounded insane! About as insane as he felt, honestly. _Stop thinking like that!_ He scolded himself.

"It seems you're still unsure." Hannibal suddenly said.

"Of course I'm unsure, doctor. I swear I'm losing my mind. I have no idea if I'm actually awake. This might all be some weird dream, and I'm gonna wake up on the other side of the continent. I can't be sure of anything around me. So how can I be sure of what you're telling me? Especially when I'm seeing that awful stag still?"

"Where is it Will?" Will stared at the antlers, which lined up with Hannibal's head, making _him_ look like the stag.

"Right behind you, Dr. Lector."

"You aren't scared of it anymore." The stag moved from its previous place and stared directly at Will, and he stared back.

"No. I'm not. I'm more scared of what it means for my sanity."


End file.
